Gun Will Go

We got butter(The gun'll go, the gun'll go...The gun'll go...)Aiyo, one thing for sure, keep you of allKeep a nice crib, fly away, keep to the pointKeep niggaz outta ya face, who snakesKeep bitches in they place, keep the mac in a special place,Keep moving for papes, keep cool, keep doing what you doingKeep it fly, keep me in the cratesCuz I will erase shit, on the real, note, you'se a wasteIt's right here for you, I will lace youRip you and brace you, put a nice W up on ya faceWord to mother, you could get chasedIt's nothing to taste, blood on a thug if he gotta goAll I know is, we be giving graceThis is a place, from where we make tapesWe make 'em everywhere, still in all, we be making baseY'all be making paste, these little niggaz, they be making shapesOur shit is art, yours is tracedThis is the way that we rolling in the streetsYou know when we roll we be packing that heatThe gun'll go, the gun'll go, the gun'll go, the gun'll goThe gun'll go, the gun'll go, the gun'll go, the gun'll goThe gun'll go, the gun'll go...This is, Poverty Island, man, these animals don't runSlums where the ambulance don't comeWho got the best base? Fiends waiting to smoke someApproach something, ask him where he getting that coke fromMy dudes hug blocks like, samurai shogunCuz no V and no ones, equalling no funWho want a treat they know, huh? Body to go numbMy woman need funds, plus her hair and her toes doneIt is what it is though, you fuck with the kid flowThat make it hard to get dough, the harder to get goldHarder the piff blow, harder when it snowThe pinky and the wrist glow, this here, what we live forGet gwop, then get low, but first thoughtWe gotta get the work off, the gift and the curse, bossYeah, see I'm the shit yo, the dirt in the fit, noHustling from the get-go, the motto is get moreWe was quiet flashy brothers, strapped all alongWith the dirty .38 long, twelve hour shift gateTook case, state to state, you think he won't hold his weight?Put ya money on the plate and watch it get scrappedWe get ape up in that club, off that juice and HennAnd it's a no win situation fucking with themYou mean like Ewing at the front at the rim, finger roll a DutchMillion dollar stages touched, techs, gauges bustTrust no one, the lone shogun, rugged Timb boot stomperDamaging lyrical mass destruction launcherNothing can calm the quakeage when I break, kidPeace to my brothers up north, doing state bidsWhoa... this is the way we be rolling in the clubYou know when we roll we be packing .32 snubsThe gun'll go, the gun'll go, the gun'll go, the gun'll goThe gun'll go, the gun'll go, the gun'll go, the gun'll goThe gun'll go, the gun'll go, the gun'll go, the gun'll go